He's an Angel in Purgatory
by ParallaxNoir
Summary: In which Dean continues his search for Cas. (Destiel) (Season 8 spoilers)


**Disclaimer: Owning Supernatural is not a thing I can do, and thus none of it belongs to me.**

"Where's the angel?!"

_Where's my angel?_

"I said where's the angel?!"

_Where's my angel?_

He just laughed, his lips curling into the cruelty of his smirk. "You're never gonna find him."

Dean pressed the knife harder against the leviathan's throat, drawing little beads of oiled blood. Gritting his teeth against the rage that had begun to boil inside of him, he tried to keep his voice steady.

"Where. Is the angel."

_Where is my angel?_

He laughed again, eyes flashing. "He's an angel in purgatory! What did you really think was gonna happen? Aren't you just a little surprised that with all of the things you put down here, they aren't just _all over_ you? There are plenty of things down here that want you, Dean Winchester, _believe me_, there are. But next to an angel? Next to an angel you're old fucking news." He laughed again, in short, hoarse bursts. Maybe it was because the pressure Dean was applying through the knife was crushing his windpipe, or maybe it was because the very air he breathed was so vile that even the tissue around his throat was decaying.

Dean let out a roar that was as animalistic as he felt, and he tore through the monster's neck in one swift motion. He stood there, chest heaving, until the red wash of rage started to fade from behind his eyes.

He heard Benny chuckle from behind him, and he had to resist the urge to turn his knife on _him,_ too. "Shut up," Dean grumbled, marching off in the way they had been headed.

Benny sighed, falling into step behind him. "You need to give it up, Dean. How long have we been searching for your angel, huh? How long are you gonna search? How many monsters are you gonna rip apart before you figure out that if anyone even fucking knows they're never gonna tell you? He was right, Dean. He's an angel in purgatory. He doesn't stand a chance."

Dean stopped, turning the handle of the blade in his palm.

_He's an angel in purgatory._

His grip on the handle tightened, his knuckles turning white. He thought of all of those… those _things_ attacking Cas. Clawing at him. Gnashing those needle point teeth at him. Touching him. Hurting him. Hurting the angel. Hurting _his_ angel.

_My angel's in purgatory._

His grip loosened. He wasn't seeing the monsters anymore. He was seeing Cas's face. Twisted in pain. In fear. Lost and alone, because he was here, not there. Cas needed him, and he was here, not there.

How had this happened? Cas was there. Right there. When they had landed in purgatory they had been together. But then he was just… _gone._ He had played over the moment a hundred times in his head. And he had come up with dozens of explanations. Maybe he had seen something coming that Dean hadn't seen and he had gone to head it off. Maybe something attacked him and he was trying to defend himself. For whatever reason, he was forced to leave. And now he was hurt or lost or stuck in some impossible situation that he couldn't get out of on his own.

And that's what Dean was here for. To get him back. To get him out.

_To save him._

"We should get out of here before that head finds its way back to its body." Benny stopped next to Dean. "Come on."

"…I'm not leaving without him." Dean looked straight ahead, trying to see through the trees and the forest and the monsters, and everything between him and his angel. He tried to move past even seeing. He tried to _will_ himself there, to wherever he was. Tried to will himself back to his angel where he belonged.

Benny sighed and started walking again, whacking at the creeping fingers of the underbrush with his blade. "I know. We'll find him." He hit his blade against a branch drooping down above his head, snapping off the dead half of it onto the forest floor. "We'll find him."

* * *

Dean was lying with the leaves, a knotted root digging into the small of his back. All was quiet in that pocket of the woods, without even the breath of breeze or the sting of monster screams. Twigs were poking little pinprick pockmarks into his exposed flesh, and the root in his back was starting to become an annoyance. It was cold and uncomfortable, but that wasn't what kept him awake.

Benny was standing sentry several yards away, trying to grant Dean a few precious hours of rest that would hopefully give him the energy he needed to make it through another day. And he had been making an honest attempt at sleep. He truly had. But every time he closed his eyes… Every time he closed his eyes, all he heard, all he saw, all he _felt_…

_All I could feel was my angel._

Dean lifted his head and saw Benny a little ways off, mindlessly scraping bark from a nearby tree. Laying his head back down, he closed his eyes. He focused every of his thoughts on conjuring Cas in his mind. He tried to imagine him standing there with Dean, strong, healthy, and at peace, unlike when he saw him during the day. When he saw him during the day, all he could bring to his mind's eye was every fear he had of whatever evil was forcing itself upon him. He would see Cas in pain. In fear. Injured. Lost. Alone. Without him.

_No. Not like that._

Dean took a breath, trying to calm himself. He pushed all of the painful images of Cas from his mind, and instead focused on the safe, peaceful Cas. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to be lost in his sight, sounds, and smells. Once he had allowed himself to become entirely overwhelmed with his presence, he spoke quietly to himself:

"Cas… Cas, where are you? Where can I find you? Are you okay? Fuck, of course you aren't okay. You're an angel in purgatory. But it will be okay. It will be. I'll be there soon, okay? Just please come back to me. Talk to me. Something, Cas, anything! …Please? I need you, okay? And I really want to think you need me, too."

Dean opened his eyes and sat up, looking around. He listened as hard as he could for the rustle of wings, looked for the flutter of a trench coat. After a few silent and sightless moments, he laid back down, disappointment washing over him once again.

Every night since he'd lost Cas he had prayed to him. Sometimes he just asked over and over again where he was. Sometimes he held whole conversations he didn't know if he'd ever hear. And then other times he just kept assuring him that it would be okay, and that he would find him. Though half the time he knew it wasn't really Cas he was trying to comfort.

Dean rolled onto his side, tucking his hope away for the night. He knew that the only way he would be able to sleep was if he pushed his angel from his mind completely. Otherwise the worry or the longing would suffocate him, and sleep would be the furthest thing from his mind. He picked up a short, slender piece of a branch and starting drawing circles in the dirt with it. But once he realized he had started forming Enochian symbols and sigils with his lines he drew, dropped it again and turned over.

Stopping himself from thinking about Cas was like trying to stop the sun. The image of Cas in his mind was strong enough to drive him on against wave after wave of the denizens of purgatory, with only the sliver of hope that he could find him again. It didn't matter that he could get out, if only he'd let Benny take him there. It didn't matter that Cas was an angel in purgatory, and thus probably the most sought after piece of flesh that the rage that coursed through a monster's veins pulsed for. He knew he wouldn't stop looking for him until he found him. Even if it killed him.

Lying on the ground like this was unbearable. It made him restless and anxious. He knew he had to keep _moving_. If he didn't, he knew the panic that ran in his veins like bad blood would paralyze him, its sickly branches crawling out beneath the surface of his skin.

He closed his eyes again, determined to make himself clear his mind. He knew that if he spent these few hours he had letting his fear and longing tear at him from the inside he wouldn't have the strength he needed to keep looking. And he needed to keep looking.

So instead, he tried to fill his mind with the happiest and most peaceful images and memories he had of their time together back in the world of men. As his mind flooded with all of the old feelings of care and protection and contentedness, he was finally able to slowly drift away from everything else around him.

But before he erased Cas from his mind completely, he sent out one last silent prayer.

_You're an angel in purgatory, but it will be okay._

_You're an angel in purgatory, but I'll be there for you._

_You're an angel in purgatory, but you aren't alone._

_As long as you're all that I think about, you'll never be alone._

_You're an angel in purgatory, but I'll save you._

_I will save you._

_Love, Dean._


End file.
